Bed of Roses
by arin1
Summary: Bobby falls for the wrong woman...and all hell breaks loose. Comicverse. This is pt.1. Future installments will be chaptered. Read/review please as this story is a work in process and feedback will determine where it goes from here...


Disclaimer: you know the drill. They own the X-Men, I don't… I'm just borrowing them for a while…

Author's Note: This is a little fic I thought up the other day. I've wanted to write a Bobby Drake fic for a while, but I couldn't get it off the ground because a) I'm a college student and school comes first and b) I was knee deep in the middle of my last one, which is now finished. I'm done with the End of the Matter, and so I can start on my new story…

Author's Note, pas deux: This is not a slash Bobby fic. He is absolutely straight, and is about hmmmmm 25or so, young, but not jailbait in other words. This fic is set solely in the comicverse, so Jubilee and Gambit are in it. Naturally, I have included everybody's favorite brand of sadists, the FoH, as well as the Legacy Virus, just because I wanted to…

I would appreciate feedback, really…it keep me going. Okay then, let's go to New York…

**Bed of Roses**, **Part** **One**

** **

Lauren Clark, aged 31, eyed the living room to her new home with a sigh of disdain. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with the room, goodness no! It was the fact that there _wasn't _that had her disturbed…

_Disturbed…or perturbed?_ She thought as she brushed an imaginary strand of hair out of her eyes. No, there was nothing wrong with the room, the house, the neighborhood, or the well-to-do county they were living in. It was all simply perfect…and that made it wrong.

Of course James had to get a place big enough to bunk the entire House of Representatives, she thought, wincing slightly at the exaggeration, knowing that if James were here to hear it, he'd reprimand her for being so gauche.

"A society wife does not exaggerate or boast, it is beneath her and it is distasteful. If you want to make statements like that, go to a sports bar", was the sort of thing that James Clark the Third would say to her, the sort of thing he always found time to say to her. He was always on her case, reminding her that he was on the political fast track, and she needed to act the part of the flawless society wife at all times. Appearances were everything in politics, and he had his eye on the big prize: District Attorney. That meant having a perfect, freshly scrubbed home and a perfect, freshly scrubbed wife. 

And it leaves little or no room for what I want, not that it matters anymore. I shouldn't complain, shouldn't be so selfish, James is a good husband and his job keeps a roof over our heads, what does it matter that I'm little more than a trophy for him to model off at political functions? He's a good man, and he works hard to give us everything that we could possibly want. I should be happy that he's doing so well, that we're doing so well…

But she wasn't happy, not with the house, the expensive cars…the lifestyle…

The life…

She brushed another imaginary strand of hair out of her eyes, and shook the damning thought out of her head before it could worm its way into her brain, poisoning her against her husband, her life, her very existence. She picked up another box and began to unpack its contents, forcing herself to hum, the sound echoing off of the ostentatious cathedral ceiling and drifting through the 16 room, 5 bedroom house that would only be occupied by two people, but was big enough to fit a family of 6. She looked around the room again, and grimaced at the size of the estate, as well as the décor. It was old, turn of the century perhaps, with high windows, cathedral ceilings, and chandeliers in nearly every room. The interior of the house was tastefully painted in shades of cream and mauve, the grounds were neatly manicured, and the furniture was old leather and gentility. One hundred percent society, high-class acceptance bought for the screamingly obscene price of $450,000…the fact that the property was situated in Westchester County explained the high real estate price. The property value out here was sky high, and the price for even a two bedroom house was exorbitant. But James had insisted that they move out here, away from the city, to this pricey suburb. As James had put it, everybody who was anybody was considering moving to Westchester, and having a home out here elevated his social status considerably. It would help him, now that he was running for office…

James had made high-profile friends during the course of his career. Even she knew that and she had only met a handful of them during the course of her 10-year marriage. The Clarks had lived in Massachusetts for the first two years of their marriage, and had moved to New York eight years ago, long enough for James to establish a career as a high priced lawyer and make partner in his firm, long enough for him to get his foot in the door and earn supporters in and out of the political ring. James had some pretty high ideals, and he used them to attract attention, both positive and negative. Lauren knew that he was meeting with a "Senator Kelly" tonight, discussing as always, "the mutant problem"…a current "hot issue" with the political crowd and with the voters…and something that had gotten him a lot of supporters and enemies over the years. There was even rumored to be a school somewhere in this county that housed young mutants. She wondered if James knew…

Mutants…the thought both frightened and intrigued her. She had been a member of the Model U.N. in college, and one of the topics they had discussed even then was the issue of whether mutants deserved equal rights, just like non-mutants.She had been very liberal, had wanted equal rights for mutants even though she was 100% human, with no mutant gene in her DNA code, no special powers or abilities. Still, she fought for them and their rights. After all, despite an extra gene, weren't mutants human, too? James had had strong opinions on the subject back then, too, though he hadn't been so dead-set about them as he was now. Back then, they had actually argued about it, had even broken up over it once…

Back then she knew how to stand up for herself…she hadn't allowed a man to define the boundaries of her world…hadn't allowed a man to think for her…

Back when things were simple…

Back when she was happy…

Back then…

She sat down on the elegant sofa and pulled something out of box number 51 (they were all cataloged as per James' orders). She looked at it for a moment, a frown creasing her brow, marring her delicate features…then she placed it on the mahogany end table next to the sofa.

It was her wedding picture, taken nearly 11 years ago. She had been a beaming bride, standing there next to her handsome, aristocratic husband. The whole ceremony had been perfect, with his moneyed family footing most of the bill. Her parents had been thrilled with the whole affair, happy that their darling daughter was finally marrying Prince Charming after nearly 4 years of courtship. She and James (he had been Jamie then) had met their freshman year at Yale, and had been nearly inseparable ever since. He had been the devoted beau to her all through college, perfect, stable, charming, a fraternity god in his Sigma Phi Epsilon sweatshirt and his Dockers khakis. He was near the top of his class in at the Yale School of Law, a veritable golden boy to everyone who knew him. She hadn't stood a chance of escaping that charm even back then, even after they had had the major blowout over Mutant Rights, she had taken him back. He had begged her forgiveness, had told her that her opinion mattered to him, that he loved her too much to let her go over something so trivial as an argument…

She had been good at putting up appearances then, too, telling her parents and friends all the time how wonderful and charming James was, and how lucky she was to end up with such a wonderful man. After all, he was her Prince Charming in the flesh, right? The kind of guy she had thought about when she talked to her friends about The Perfect Man. And James, despite the occasional fight or cutting word, had been just that…perfect. Perfect for everyone around him, and more than perfect for her…she had told herself night and day those when she was a student at Yale that this was The Perfect Man, and that she loved him. She loved him more than life itself and she told her parents that she wanted to marry him, that he would be the Perfect Husband to her…

She had managed to convince them…and herself, and when James finally proposed after 4 years she had tearfully accepted. He had been her first boyfriend, her first and only lover, and now her husband for nearly 11 years. She should have been happy, she told herself as she stood there in the living room of their new home. After all, she had everything a girl could ask for…

So why am I miserable? Why am I so happy when he has to make an appearance without me? Why do I look at my wedding picture and want to cry? Why do I fantasize about the first years of our marriage, before he got so…power-hungry? Why do I prefer a vibrator and a stack of romance novels when I have a real, flesh-and-blood husband to satisfy me?

Because he doesn't anymore, not like he used to…the voice in her head told her mockingly, when you do have sex with him it's like making love to a robot: cool, dispassionate, same position, different day…he's nothing like the man you met in college. He's nothing like the man you fell in love with, the man who proposed to you on a bed strewn with rose petals, the man you used to wait up for, the man who used to tell you he loved you every morning before he went to work…truthfully, you don't even know who he is anymore. And while we're at it Miss Perfect Wife, who are you? What happened to the woman you used to know, the one who actually used to stand up for herself? What have you become, other than a Martha Stewart clone?

"I have not," she told the voice in her head, immediately feeling foolish for talking to herself. If James had been home he would have ridiculed her for "hearing voices". He wouldn't recommend a shrink, because she was a political wife and the news would get out. He couldn't afford to have a quack for a wife, not when he was campaigning for the D.A's position. He had to look perfect, and that meant she had to look perfect. No psychiatrists or nervous breakdowns allowed. Period.

Lauren walked over to the gilt-edged mirror in the foyer and looked at herself in it, scrutinizing her reflection. She was an attractive woman, in a refined way.Her shoulder length brown hair was twisted up into a neat French knot; she was dressed in J. Crew relaxed fit jeans and a polo shirt. She had a lightly freckled, delicate face with a figure to match: lightly curvaceous, but in no way voluptuous. She was certainly attractive, but too understated to attract much attention in public. That was fine with James, though, he didn't want her to be a "sexy" woman. He wanted her to be refined and elegant, to be a beautiful extension of himself, not a target for other men's desire. He gave final approval of her wardrobe choices, particularly when she was stepping out in the public eye with him, which thankfully was not often. The media was so cruel, look what they had done to that Lewinsky girl! The farther she stayed out of the public eye, the better. So far, this early in the race, nobody had gotten pictures of her, even though she was the wife of the Man Who Would Be District Attorney. She couldn't hope to be that lucky in the future, not with James openly announcing his intention to run for the position, not when he had high-profile political supporters like Senator Kelly.

She frowned at herself in the mirror, and then stopped. After all, frowning caused wrinkles, and she didn't want that now did she? She was nearly 32 years old, and so far she had been able to hide the march of time through the generous use of Alpha-Hydroxyl creams and lotions.She actually looked a bit younger than a woman in her early thirties. Most people thought she was at least a few years younger than her real age, and that was fine with her, Old age would come soon enough, might as well enjoy youth while it lasts…

Too bad I don't enjoy my life…

She sighed in the mirror. Her reflection sighed back. She stuck out her tongue. Her reflection did the same. She looked at her twin in the mirror and said:

"That's it…you've got to get out of this place. A drive would do you good. Maybe stop in town and pick up some groceries before the store closes…"

She nodded at her reflection and resolutely walked to the kitchen, grabbing her purse, keys, and a light J. Crew sweater, pulling her hair out of the French knot and shaking it loose so that it fell loosely around her face. She walked to the bathroom down the hall, gave herself a once over in the mirror, and nodded, satisfied. She looked casual enough to pass for one of the locals, but not sloppy enough to embarrass James if one of his political cronies (or enemies) recognized her. She turned off all of the lights, locked the doors, and walked out to her car, a 1998 Buick Century, maroon red, loaded to the gills. She started the luxury car and backed out of the four-car garage slowly, then accelerated as she threw the car into drive and sped down the driveway, to the road and into the New York night, heading for a sleepy little town called Salem Center.

Salem Center: 7:00 p.m.

"C'mon, Bobby…pleeeease! Just this once?" whined Jubilation Lee, her pretty face twisted into a pout worthy of the average 5 year old.

"No, I am not buying you alcohol. Not after the last time!" said Robert "Bobby" Drake sternly. "You got me so deep into trouble, every time I turned a corner, there was one of the other X-Men lecturing me about the "perils of teenage drinking" and how it was my responsibility as an adult to make sure…"

"…That I have a strong set of morals. Yeah, yeah…c'mon, Bobby…just this one time? The others won't know, and besides, the last time wasn't that bad. They've probably all forgotten by now…"

"Jubes, you puked in the Professor's wheelchair and in Storm's garden and you had to spend a day in the Med Lab being treated for alcohol poisoning! Trust me…they'll know. I am not getting my ass kicked over you again!"

Jubilee pouted even more and ran a hand though her short black hair. She looked at Bobby and sighed, "Drake, I swear…old age is getting to you. You're getting to be such a square! You used to be a fun guy to hang around with…"

"Yeah, well, maybe I decided to grow up a bit, y'know? I'm 25 now, not 14! I can't go around T.P.ing the mansion forever, pulling juvenile pranks like I used to."

"Yeah, well…you're getting to be as boring as Scott…"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"There is no way I am that stiff!"

"Oh yeah you are, buddy! Big time! And you-"

"-Hey Jubes, watch out!"

Jubilee looked up just as she rammed her cart into a woman in the produce section. The woman, who looked to be in her mid to late twenties, caught herself on the tomato display, but dropped her basket of groceries, spilling fresh fruits, vegetables, and the odd can of chicken noodle soup all over the floor.

"Omigod! I am soooo sorry! I didn't see you…" squealed Jubilee, genuinely mortified.

"It's alright, really. I'm fine," said the woman, who was kneeling on the floor and beginning to pick up the spilled produce. "Can't really say the same about the cucumbers, though," she said, holding up a rather bruised looking green vegetable.

Bobby, who was never one to ignore a woman in distress, decided to do the chivalrous thing and help her pick up the spilled groceries. He stole a good look at the lady while he was helping her reload her basket. She was pretty, though in a plain "Hamptons" sort of way. She looked like the sort of woman you might see modeling J. Crew or L.L. Bean, or going out sailing on Martha's Vineyard. Neatly dressed and polished, though in a casual jeans and a sweatshirt sort of way. Out of habit, he stole a glance at her ring finger…

No wedding ring, so she might be single…oh, Drake you are getting pathetic if you're trying to pick up women in the grocery store! Besides, she's not really your type, you've never been one for the Cape Cod set…

She was looking at him, a slightly puzzled look on her face, and Bobby realized that he had been staring at her. He heard Jubilee stifle a laugh behind him, and blushed furiously.

"Ummm, sorry. Here's your eggplant." He handed the purple vegetable to the woman, " I ummm, don't remember seeing you around. Are you new to the area?"

"Yes," she said, smiling at him. "I just moved out here from the city… I'm still trying to get used to it out here…it's so quiet at night, no cars, no people… just crickets."

"Uh, yeah, it is…quiet, that is…but it's nice you know? The crime rate out here is pretty low: mostly drunks picking a fight at Harry's. You'll get used to it pretty quickly, and you'll kick yourself for not moving out here sooner…well, my friend and I had better get going.Oh, and, I'm really sorry about that little accident, Jubilee's still learning to drive…"

"Hey!" yelled Jubilee. 'For your information, mister, I can drive just fine…"

"Okay Jubes, shut up" said Bobby sottovoce. "I'm trying to make a graceful exit here…"

The J. Crew lady smiled and said, "It's fine, really, I think my vegetables and I will survive…it was nice meeting you…" And with that, she walked down the aisle and out of sight.

Jubilee looked at Bobby slyly, then nudged him in the ribs, "I saw that …you thought she was hot! Why didn't you get her name and number?"

"Because we're in a grocery store, you dumbass. Besides, she's probably married…"

"Well, I don't think so. You can always tell if a woman is married by her groceries. Did you look at her groceries while you were playing Mr. Hero and helping her pick them up?"

"Uhhh…no. What do groceries have to do with it?"

"No wonder you never have a date…okay, if you had been looking at her food instead of her, you would have noticed that she had an alarming amount of fruits and vegetables in her basket. She was not shopping for a man, Bobby, trust me on this one. Men don't eat rabbit food! Besides, she didn't have a ring on…"

"Yeah, I noticed that…doesn't mean anything, though…she could be seeing someone. Besides, she's not my type…"

"Yeah, whatever, Drake…oh, and by the way, you're a shitty liar…let's get the rest of the grocery shopping done before the others send a search party…"

"Yeah, okay, Jubes…hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Drake, what is it?"

"If I happen to like rabbit food, does that make me less of a man?"He said it with a wry twist to his mouth, and the look in his eye that told Jubilee that he was joking…

"You're an asshole, Bobby. I still think you should have asked that lady for her number. I mean…you'll probably never see her again!"

"Ah well, you win some, you lose some. Besides, she probably would have broken my heart and there's the whole mutant issue…"

"Yeah…" agreed Jubilee sadly. She knew all about the mutant issue. Normal guys wouldn't come within ten feet of her because she was a mutant, and there were no other guys at the Institute that were her age, so no luck there. She was beginning to think she would die single…

Well, at least Bobby has as much bad luck with women as I do with men. If I die single, at least I know he'll probably die single with me…sad thing is, Bobby's actually a pretty hot guy, and normal girls won't go out with him just cause he's a mutant…

They got all of the supplies. Jubilee tried to con Bobby into buying her some beer again, but finally gave up after he refused for the umpteenth time. He was, in her opinion, taking way too many lessons from Scott… Finally, they got everything checked out and loaded into Bobby's car, then drove off towards the Institute, arguing the whole way…

Lauren finished her grocery shopping, what little there was of it, checked out and headed to her car. As she was loading food into the back seat, she saw the young man and the teenage girl that she had literally run into in the store drive off in a small late model car. She thought about the man, and how courteous he had been, and she had to repress a pleasurable tingle…

Well, just because I'm married, doesn't mean I'm dead. He was very good-looking, and so charming! It was so nice of him to help me…he didn't have to do that…Ah well, I'd better get home before James gets there, he'll want to tell me all about his meeting with Senator Kelly, and he'll be angry if I'm not home to meet him…

She got into her car, started it up and drove out of the parking lot. As she was driving home, she thought about the nice young man in the store again…

I should have at least asked him his name…it's common courtesy. James is always lecturing me about having good manners in public. Then again, he would probably have had a fit if he saw how attractive that man was, and the way he was looking at me...I really should have asked him his name. It would be nice to actually know people around here…

Who am I kidding?I'll never see him again…

End of part one…you can probably guess that they're going to meet up again. Will she tell him that she's married? Will he tell her that he is a mutant? Will they give in to mutual attraction? And will her husband find out if they do? Tips, suggestions, feedback is welcome as always. But you know, my stories almost always have an unhappy ending…(poor Bobby)


End file.
